With A Little Help From My Friend
by hijklmnop
Summary: Max/Jude. There always seemed to be those remaining two - Max and Jude and Jude and Max, usually in some various stages of disarray and undress, always seeming to be strewn across the other like boneless rag dolls.


Jude is a fucking cocky little shit of a drunk, at his very best.

Max had to find that out the hard way, so far as he was concerned. Knocking back the rum shots, quite a few joints' worth of sweet-smelling smoke wafting throughout the room, a... possibly infinite amount of beer bottles strewn about, and maybe a couple of wasted boys to match, with access to some of New York's 'finest mind-altering substances of freedom and other fluffy things', was the exact term Max remembered referring to such as before the first effects of the booze had started to sink in. Or maybe after. What the fuck ever, it was half a bottle of hard liquor and a hell of a lot of brain cells ago. Didn't even matter anymore.

These damn parties, man, they always ended up like this. Well, close to always; Max wasn't so quick to forget his few romps with Prudence. Definitely not so quick to remember the many photo opportunities involving an empty thirty of Shlitz, Jojo in one of Sadie's bathrobes, and a very, very naked Jude Feeny passed out in the middle of the floor. Max had laughed his ass off at the guy's expense once he'd woken up the next morning and stumbled off for his room, the blush nearly crawling all the way down to his shiny, white apple of a Liverpool ass.

"Aw, what, the honeymoon's over?" Max had wailed after him in that horrified housewife of a voice. "That's not what you said last night, baby!" To which he'd received a very universal one-fingered salute through the crack of the door.

On any normal occasion, though, the party all died down and dulled to a quiet simmer, there always seemed to be those remaining two - Max and Jude and Jude and Max, usually in some various stages of disarray and undress, always seeming to be strewn across the other like boneless rag dolls with nothing much to care about in the way of moving. Even just now, there was a very jelly-like Jude slumped into the cushions, arm slung lazily around Max's shoulders, smoke slowly swirling upwards towards the ceiling as Jude let out a long stream of the stuff through his lips.

"Man, bet your girlfriend back home is a total sex pot," Max mumbled aloud, staring up at the ceiling for a few long seconds. "I mean, chicks are totally all over that whole tortured artist thing you got going on, right?" A devilish smile was thrown in Jude's general direction. "Total panty peeler, am I right? Hey, hand me some of that."

Jude passed the joint over with a quirk of a grin, giving a half-hearted shrug as he rubbed at his chest. "Never really thought about it," he admitted, contemplatively. "Molly's good and all, but. It's not really all in the looks for me."

"Christ, don't lie to a guy about that shit, Jude, no guy thinks that much with the upstairs brain."

"I'm being serious," Jude replied indignantly, and shook his head. "Fuck, if a person's a real babe, the most beautiful person in the world, but they open their mouths and all that comes out is a whole lot of nothing--"

"You'd still bend that over, man, you some some stacked fox of a girl shaking her fun bags at you, I don't care how much of a bimbo she is, you hit that--ow, motherfucking," he ended in a curse a he dropped what little was left of the blunt into the ash tray, blowing on his fingers where he'd just been burned by the tip. "Dude, are you saying you're a homo?" he finally asked, rather unceremoniously, frowning down at the other male. "Is this you telling me you're a homo? Because that's totally okay, I like homos. I have no problem with homos."

"Shite, this is just you getting into me skivvies now," Jude laughed out loud. "Fucking perve."

"Well, hell, I mean, if that's you talking about your lacy unmentionables," Max retorted. "It's what all the other chicks are all cruising for these days, might as well toss my hat in the ring too."

"Bully you could," Jude challenged with a nudge. "Jude's unmentionables need far more practice than you've got going for you, that much is for sure."

Max actually cacked right out at that. "So is that a dare? Or a double dare?"

"I'm serious."

"Why, Judey, how cruel." Max sat up, that same devil-may-care smirk drawing up his lips. He put on his very best Southern belle drawl and," Y'all just might be insultin' a girl's ability to pleasure a man!"

There was a very decisively pale color to Jude's face when Max chose that moment to let Little Mis Innocent delve into something far more perverse, and made a grab right for the front of Jude's trousers.

Max just snorted, accent momentarily forgotten. "Little Jude's the only Little Anyone you've gotten your hands on, isn't he?

Jude's answer, or lack thereof, was more than enough.

"Right, so, a short lesson in man on man relations," Max announced, fingers tugging open the fastenings of Jude's slacks with a free hand as he licked the other and shoved it between Jude's legs before the guy could even muster a protest. "Handjobs," he specified, as he roughly grabbed for Jude's cock and gave it a hearty tug. Jude was automatically letting out a sharp gasp, and Max grinned in his very best triumphant manner, fist already starting into a steady rhythm. "Or, uh." And he paused, frowning at Jude. "I'm sorry, or is this not enough practice for you yet?" Jude's eyes successfully bugged.

"I swear to fucking God, if you stop right now, I'm going to do you in right here."

"That's the spirit," Max declared aloud, jerking at Jude's pants. "But an experienced guy like yourself is so over something easy as this, am I right?"

"What are you--"

Max ducked his head down, and Jude immediately braced himself against the back of the couch, jaw falling slack as something decidedly very warm and very wet was dipping its way around... damn. "Max," Jude blurted, his other hand grabbing at a fist full of the afghan draped over the back of the sofa. Max's hand slid up Jude's front, under his buttoned shirt and tweaking experimentally at a nipple.

It didn't exactly last very long. Even half-assed and wasted, Max's tongue certainly knew its way around a pecker. Maybe Max was a bit more of a poofter than he tended to let on, Jude thought to himself, half-baked and fleeting as he rocked his hips up towards the guy and laced his fingers into Max's hair, crooning out some kind of muttered warning just in time for Max to sit up and finish the job with his fist. "You just came in your pants, high schooler," he reiterated just for Jude, flopping back onto the couch and retrieving a cigarette as though nothing was anything breaching the neighborhood of weird. Lighting the end and taking a drag off, he blew the smoke out through his nose and eyed Jude more than a little lecherously. "Don't worry. Next lesson gets even more fun." Jude's breathing had his chest rising in fall in pants, and he let out a breathless laugh and ran shaky fingers through his hair.

"Jeez, you two," they heard in a husky sort of chuckle then, and both glanced over in unison to see Sadie clad in her trademark fringed robe, grinning like mad and grabbing for the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. Max automatically threw her a lewd smile right back, hand reaching back for obscene regions as Jude's cheeks were flushing that same bright pink of a color they'd been when involuntary drunken stripping was involved. "Get a room next time, you hear? Won't have any of that in my living room."

Mug clutched her in her hands then, she started back towards her own room, smirking in that knowing sort of way and kicking her door closed behind her.

"And make sure you clean up that couch!" 


End file.
